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RPlog:TCF is Born
Swoops n' More -- Black Krayt Swoop Arena Unlike the swoop shop across the way, Swoops n' More has a more homey feeling. There is a smell of motor oil in the air, and the sound of tools in the background. You can see a man in the corner of the store working on an old swoop. On the left side of the shop, several swoops are mounted on the wall for sale. On the opposite wall is an assortment swoop upgrades on display. In the rear of the shop, is a bookshelf, containing swoop repair manuals. A small desk with a computer terminal next to it is in the front of the store, and some seats for customers to relax in. Next to the seats is a variety of drinks and snacks for people to munch on while waiting. The place has a friendly atmosphere, and always someone willing to help you out. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Bochek => Swoops n' More Repair/Upgrade Terminal => SIGN: Swoops and Upgrade/Repair Prices -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- Out O leads to Staging Area -- Black Krayt Swoop Arena. Joir enters the shop, flanked by two large black suited bodyguards. Around his neck he wears a Sienar Fleet Systems - sponsorship pass - although those who know his true role within the Empire would find that cover role ammusing. Keeping his face impassive and his eyes cold he nods to Bochek in greeting. Bochek nods in return, his lips curling up on the sides. He head drops slightly, letting him peer back at Joir from the top of his eyes. Looking to the guards, he gulps, and begins tappins his fingers on the counter. "So, Mr. Joir, I trust you are here with good news?" A grim smile slips onto Joir's face as he sees Bochek's reaction to his towering bodyguards. Although they are not here to hurt Bochek they still provide an added intimidation - ruling through the threat of force - just what the Empire is built on. When he speaks his voice is low, carrying a slight tinge of knowing arrogance "I hear you have begun 'expanding' your interests" Bochek shrugs humbly, trying miserably to refrain his fear. "Well, one must go where the credits are. I am moving out to Bespin, and going into the weapons business there." He looks around the shop, then back to Joir with a comforting smile. "Don't worry though, this place is still gonna stay." The grim smile stays firmly fixed on Joir's lips, this is the part of the game that he enjoys - the hunt. He walks slowly towards Bochek, stopping close enough so that he can talk in a muted voice so that any casual or determined listeners will not hear the rest of the conversation. "My /interests/ go beyond swoops" he pauses to give effect to the statement "Far beyond" Bochek tries to force out a smile, "Heh. Imagine that." He gulps again, wipes his face over with his palm, and continues to tap the counter. "So, did the funding come through?" Joir keeps his eyes locked on Bochek, cold grey eyes so piercing that they appear almost like daggers. Keeping his face impassive he raises his left arm slightly, and one of the two men who flank him approach and hand him a small credit chip. Joir takes the chip and taps it in his hand absently for a few seconds before holding it out toward Bocheck. As he does he murmurs... "I hope this will continue our /warm/ relationship" You give 8000 Standard Galactic Credits to Bochek. Bochek instinctivley takes a step back as the guard comes closer. Upon view of the credit chip, he sighs in relief, wipes his palms on his pants, and moves back up to the counter. He smiles meekly, "Forgive me." Picking up the chip, he holds it in front of him, examining it carefully, then grins widely. "Oh yes good sir. This will continue our /warm/ relationship." Joir 's lips curl up to show some measure of contempt at the blatant fear shown by the Rodain before him - grow some dignity he thinks as he turns to leave. Stopping at the doorway he calls back "I will see you on Bespin then Mr Bochek" , switching to Rodian to end with a pertinent reminder. You say, "Long Live the Empire - keep the faith", in Rodian. Bochek nods and says, "Long live the Empire.", in Rodian. You head through the doors. TCF is Born